Dull Grace
by Reina-183
Summary: AU, Yaoi, CloudRiku. In a world without Aeris, Cloud can't understand what's happening when he bumps into such a familiar boy. And maybe, with that boy's help, he can learn to forgive and let go.


Disclaimer: Don't own KH or KH2.

Cloud could still remember how it started, on that gray day after church. He had been clutching flowers for a woman he couldn't forget, walking through the dim halls of church, a mess, inside and out.

There was a thump as Cloud was knocked backwards, the flowers falling to the floor. He frowned, turning to see whoever had run into him.

"Watch it-" and there was silver hair, shorter and choppier than the hair he remembered, and wide green eyes, filled with a naïve maturity, rather than insane malice.

"I'm sorry," the boy's voice was soft, and he turned his head, hiding his gaze from the world underneath silver locks.

Cloud felt as if his breath had been stilled in his throat. His first thought had been, _eyes that pretty shouldn't be hidden from the world._

It was an odd place to meet his lover, and an odd time too, but that didn't stop Cloud from gently grasping the kid's face and tilting it up, until the bangs fell away and oddly expressive eyes peered up at him from a calm face.

"Don't hide yourself, kid. It'll only get you hurt."

And then, Cloud knelt to pick up a wreath of flowers, walking away from what would turn out to be the happiest part of his life.

"Wait, my name's Riku." There was an uncertainty behind that statement, and Cloud couldn't help but reflect how different it was from the angry voice he had heard coming from lips so similarly colored.

"Cloud. Cloud Strife."

And he didn't know it then, but that was the beginning of something Cloud could never forget, or forgive.

The next time they met was equally as random. It shouldn't have really been so strange, seeing as even in a crowd Riku was noticeable, with his light hair and bright eyes, but when Cloud felt his eyes drawn to the teenager's slim form, he couldn't help but still in disbelief, giving those eyes time to focus in on him.

The next thing he knew, he was in the janitor's closet, pushing the boy back against a wall of mops and dustpans, claiming those pale lips with his own, bruising that slim waist with calloused hands, and pressing up against an amazing heat.

Things had progressed quickly, as actions taken out of spontaneity usually do, and suddenly there was a yellow and black shirt on the ground, and Cloud's hands were quickly unsnapping baggy blue jeans.

"Stop," and Cloud was looking into familiar eyes, only these eyes were filled with fear, and familiar lips, only these lips were bruised from his abuse, a small amount of saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth.

_Stop._

He could bet she had told him to stop, when he had wrapped his hand around her throat, cutting off circulation. And he hadn't stopped, he had kept squeezing, with that manic smile on his face, and she had eventually given up, bright green eyes glazing and dulling from the pull of her majesty death.

Cloud wanted those familiar eyes to glaze over, to dull, not look at him with that… _Emotion._

So he didn't stop.

He tugged at the boy's jeans, forgetting that familiar isn't identical, and the fabric fell to the ground, revealing patterned boxers that Cloud couldn't see through the watering of his eyes.

"Stop it!" And hands pushed at them, but Cloud easily caught them, pinning them to the wall above the teen's head.

Those eyes were panicking, alive with emotion, and Cloud frowned. He wanted those eyes to die.

And Cloud pulled on the teen's boxers, leaving them to pool around his legs in a pile on the floor.

"Stop it!"

And Cloud sloppily undid his own jeans, fumbling without the use of one hand, squeezing a bare leg between those of the frightened teen. His skin was smooth-_ just like hers-_ and pale_- just like his._

And perhaps, almost as an afterthought, Cloud looked up into those familiar eyes, only to see them dull and glazed with tears.

The boy's arms hung limply in his grasp, bangs swinging to try and hide him away in his most vulnerable state.

_He killed her, took her life away and trashed it like it was nothing, and he had no remorse, no regret, only that manic look in his eyes, while hers were dulled, and glazed._

Shaking, Cloud pulled away.

_No, familiar is not identical._

Without the older man holding him up, the boy- _Riku, _his mind reminded him- fell to the floor, a mess of long limbs and pale skin and silver hair that was so familiar.

_But familiar is not identical._

And Cloud shakily backed against the closed door, pulling on his pants, trying to forget what he had almost done, that he had almost become like the person he hated above all.

Shaky gasps reached his ears, and he looked down at Riku, curling his legs around himself.

_What have I done? I'm worthless, if I hurt the innocent._

"Are you going to kill me?" The words were spoken softly, almost calmly, yet deafening in the near silence of the closet.

They were only a foot apart, yet it felt like miles, and Cloud knew that he was the one who had instigated that difference.

Cloud ached inside at those words. He wondered, for a second, if she had said the same thing to her murderer with that reluctant calm, that vague acceptance of helplessness, that maybe it would be better to surrender.

"Sorry," and then Cloud left, opening the closet door and shutting it again, walking out of the mall, stopping only to buy some flowers for when he visited her grave.

The third time they had met was equally suprising and disturbing.

It had been raining outside when he'd heard a knock on his door. He'd raised an eyebrow and unlatched the lock, pulling the door open, expecting only to see a Jehovah's Witness trying to convert him, or a girl scout selling her cookies.

Instead he saw that same boy with wet silver hair and red ringed eyes. "I looked you up in the phone book," the boy explained, once again allowing his bangs to fall in front of his eyes.

Cloud kept his hand on the door, not knowing what to do, not knowing why his heart was pounding in his chest, why his vision focused in on the way Riku's wet jeans clung to his shapely legs or the drop of water trailing along his jaw.

"Why are you here?"

And in response to Cloud's question, there was an almost sad, sarcastic smirk.

"To finish what we started." And then wet arms wrapped around he neck and rain flavored lips covered his own, and it was wet and inexperienced and sloppy, as Cloud stumbled backwards, his forehead bumping with Riku's before he recovered and tilted his head to delve deeper.

And then some time after- _seconds, minutes, hours- _Riku had ended up beneath him, legs spread, head tilted to the side as Cloud supported himself above the panting teen, his body begging for him to continue.

Those eyes were half open, glazed with tears and sadness and a wish for death, and Cloud gulped. He couldn't go any further.

"What are you waiting for?" It was said in an impatient yet scared tone of voice, and Riku closed his eyes, his hands curling around the strewn blankets of Cloud's bed, tightening so much as to almost rip them apart, and Cloud could feel the tenseness of the body beneath him.

_This is wrong, it's so wrong, it's very wrong._

_Glazed over eyes, peering up at him from death. Dull eyes, staring at him, huddled up in a forgotten closet._

And Cloud gently uncurled Riku's fingers from his sheets, making an odd soothing noise in the back of his throat as he pulled the smaller boy into a warming embrace, resting Riku's head against his chest and rubbing a smooth back as dry sobs racked the teens body.

"Can I stay here?" Riku asked. "Just for one night?"

Cloud nodded.

And soon, too soon, that one night had turned into two, the two into three, the three into manyCloud slowly got used to coming home to see the silver haired boy waiting for him with a board game set up, or some popcorn and a movie.

He got used to melding his body with the teen's on his bed, curled up so tightly that sometimes he couldn't tell where he ended and Riku began in the pale moonlit world of night.

He got used to all of Riku's little quirks, got used to the small, shy smile he would get sometimes when Cloud opened up a bit, or when something funny happened, on TV or in real life.

Cloud couldn't even pinpoint the moment when their relationship turned physical, when he started to notice the curve of Riku's hips, or the way shadows cast over his figure.

He could however, pinpoint the first time he acted upon that attraction, pressing Riku into his bed, kissing him with a passion he'd thought he'd lost a long time ago, delving into the teen, kissing away the tears and whimpers until they turned into gasps and moans. He remembered telling the teen of his love during a moment of passion, and wondering if he'd wake to regret it.

He could remember waking up cold the next morning, turning over to pull Riku into his naked chest only to find that nothing was there, only an emptiness covered by white sheets and a letter.

Sitting up, he had allowed his eyes to widen at the sight of the blood that stained the sheets, Riku's blood he knew, and suddenly those pained whimpers made more sense and Cloud wondered why Riku didn't tell him to stop, didn't tell Cloud how much he was hurting him.

And with trembling fingers, Cloud had opened the letter.

_I'm sorry _was the only thing it said, in messy, scrawled handwriting, so dissimilar to Cloud's own meticulous cursive that it would have made him smile, had the circumstances been different.

Instead, he only unfolded the paper, watching with ever widening blue eyes as a photograph fell from the fold, landing on the bed directly on top of the bloodstain.

Two pairs of green eyes stared up at him, two sets of silver hair, and two blissfully happy smiles.

Sephiroth, the taller of the two, carried his younger brother on his back, said younger brother laughing as he clung to Sephiroth's back.

_Riku…_

And Cloud's eyes suddenly widened as he remembered how Riku had asked, so softly, so long ago _"Are you going to kill me?"_

He had known. Riku was at that church to morn his brother, the sociopath that had murdered his Aeris.

Cloud's mind, working on hyper drive, paused.

Did that mean this thing between them, this growing relationship, this precious and fragile love was fake?

Was Riku using him?

Turning, Cloud quickly pulled on whatever clothes were closest to him, rushing from his apartment.

Ever since Riku had started living with him, he had abandoned Aeris, hadn't even been to see her, to gaze at her grave stone and remember, to cry, to regret, to wade in what she had been.

And for that one second, before he wiped it from his mind, Cloud wondered if, perhaps, Riku hated Aeris as much as he hated Sephiroth.

It was a sunny day, the kind Aeris would always garden on, where she would smile at him and laugh to her own corny jokes as Cloud, in too small garden gloves, a tiny shovel in his hand, helped her to weed.

It was the kind of day where Riku would let loose one of those small smiles of his, sitting out on the front porch, his legs hanging over the side, just sitting, and smiling, and staring out at nowhere.

Setting the flowers in front of Aeris's tombstone, he just backed off and stood.

God, had she been beautiful.

"She must have been a good person," another man, standing in front of a similar grave told him. He was tall and pale, but between the trench coat covering his figure and the sunglasses on his face, Cloud could make out no other characteristics.

"Another boy was here as well, just a few minutes ago, sobbing."

Cloud's eyes widened, his heart pumping in his chest, disbelief clouding his mind, sharpened only by pain and adrenaline.

He had wanted to forget Riku, to hate him, to never forgive him, and yet, the boy was already being thrown back in his face.

"Which way did he go?" Cloud asked in hesitant anticipation, racing off as the stranger pointed at a different part of the graveyard.

And when he paused, he saw Riku kneeling in front of his brother's grave, a sad, twisted smirk on his face.

"In order to rest in peace, one must atone for their sins," the boy said, a hand tracing the engravings on the tombstone, pausing over the date of death.

"You told me that once, before you lost it."

Riku paused, taking a deep, shuddery breath, and as much as Cloud wanted to run up to him and wrap his arms around him and drag him home, something in him, whether it was his hatred for Sephiroth or his own cowardly fear, kept him rooted silently to his spot behind an ancient oak, waiting with bated breath.

"You never atoned for your sins, so I did it for you." A pause. "I only wonder who will have to pay for my transgressions."

The hand dropped, Riku's face dropping as well, and something in Cloud, some archaic, forgotten part, ached, and that same part cause him to step out of hiding, his feet loudly crushing the freshly grown grass of spring.

"Riku…"

And the boy turned around, eyes filled with a sad fearfulness, and guilt, a lengthy, weighted guilt.

There was a pause, in which the only sound was their breath on the wind, and Cloud's mind raced, wondering what he should say next, but not knowing anything sufficient for this, for whatever this was.

"I thought you knew," Riku's eyes were glazed over.

"I didn't know that you didn't know until last night, when you told me you loved me."

There was that sad smirk again, even as Riku's lip trembled with contained emotion.

"I knew that it was wrong, that you should hate me. And I'm sorry if I made you think you could love me."

Cloud's heart felt crushed in agony, an overwhelming pain, mixed with disbelief and regret and fear and pure love, love that he had tried to press back and contain and forget.

"You hate her, don't you?"

A confused look, wide eyes.

"Aeris."

Slowly, Riku nodded, his hair flopping messily over his shoulder.

Cloud gulped. They needed this. He needed this. God, he needed this.

"Do you hate me?" Cloud almost thought Riku would nod, but as the teen shook his head, Cloud felt almost overcome with relief, lessening the pain in his heart.

Riku didn't hate him. That meant that somehow he hadn't messed up enough to lose the boy forever. He still had a chance.

"I hate Sephiroth," Cloud conceded, though it was no new news to either of them.

"But, that doesn't mean I hate you." And Cloud found his legs moving without him, and his mind sought to catch up, even as he was carried over to Riku.

Gently grasping Riku's chin, he raised it until Riku's hair fell way from his forehead and wide green eyes were peering up at him.

"Don't hide yourself, kid. It will only get you hurt."

And suddenly Riku smiled, blindingly bright, and a slow sort of laugh escaped from his lips.

"We're so messed up, aren't we?" He asked, gazing into Cloud's eyes. Cloud could see himself reflected there, and he grinned hesitantly.

"Yeah, we are."

Riku pulled away from him, and Cloud's heart lurched in his chest painfully, as if Riku had decided to take it with him as a souvenir.

"Why don't we start over?" Riku asked, a small, mischievous smile on his face.

Cloud smiled, just a little.

Holding out his hand, Riku looked up at Cloud, his bangs falling away from his face.

"Hello, my name's Riku."

And Cloud took Riku's hand, wondering why it fit so perfectly in his own.

"Cloud. Cloud Strife."

And then Riku leaned up and kissed him, less sloppily than before, arms carefully wrapping around Cloud's neck, gently, slowly, because they had all the time in the world.

And even, after many years, Cloud would still remember that.

……………..

Somewhere behind them, a smile lighted the a man's face. He wore a black trench coat and a pair of sunglasses, hiding his features, but as a ray of light shone down upon him and a black wing burst from his back, he smiled.

He finally atoned. He had finally been forgiven.

And now, it was time to rest in peace.


End file.
